


This World Will Remember Us

by phanitup



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 21:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15782505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanitup/pseuds/phanitup
Summary: You've read the story of Jesse James of how he lived and died. If you're still in need; of something to read, here's the story of Dan and Phil.





	This World Will Remember Us

**Author's Note:**

> A Bonnie and Clyde inspired fanfiction? Wow, never been done before.  
> But seriously, I'm a fucking history nerd and I do history at college so this was inevitable really. I know far too much about Bonnie and Clyde for my own good so hey, why not just put that all into a fanfiction?
> 
> Warnings; swearing, smoking, guns, Dans too cocky for his own good

**January 1 st, 1930**

**West Dallas, Texas**

Clark Gable. Dan had never admired someone as much as he detested them. Why was he ‘King of Hollywood’ when Dan was here just as talented being turned down by every major filming studio. Dan questioned the sanity of the movie producers every day.

He needed a cigarette.

“I’m only doing apple pies today, tell everyone that the peaches didn’t have enough juice in them.”

Dan sighed, grabbing the cloth from under the sink and standing up. “Alright.”

The little café wasn’t too busy yet, having just opened ten minutes before, but the news of no peach pie wouldn’t sit well with the few that were they. Dan didn’t understand what the whole deal was with pies, but if it earned him a few pennies pretending to be enthused about them, he wouldn’t question it.

Cleaning the tables at six in the morning wasn’t what Dan imagined his life was going. But here he was, twenty without any of his god damn poems published and no one recognising who he even was. Fuck Clark Gable and his ability to woo over the country’s hearts.

“No more peace pie, the trees dead.” Dan explained, throwing the rag back under the counter as a few of the regulars sat down at the bar.

“Oh, can I have the wood?” One of the regulars spoke, already taking a beer from the waitress that worked alongside Dan. He truly didn’t know how anyone could drink at six in the morning, but he stopped giving shit about three months ago.

Dan huffed. “You can buy the wood.”

“I got your wood.” Another wink and smirk towards Dan and another reason Dan contemplated quitting this god-awful job. He sighed, turning away and walking towards a dirty table. Fuck the losers.

If it wasn’t someone complaining about the banks closing or the crops not growing, it was someone trying to get their way into Dans pants. And Dan wasn’t about to go get into bed with a drifter who probably had an STI.

“Dan!” A local looked up at him, putting down his newspaper as Dan made his way over. At least someone had bloody respect around here. “I’m throwing a little party, want to come?”

Dan chuckled, picking up the empty plate. “Like I’d ever say no to a party.”

“Its just a little get together, nothing too extreme. Get our minds off what’s happening these days.”

“Sounds good, think everyone in this city needs to get their minds off what’s happening.” Dan sighed, burying his heel into the ground. “If I hear one more person complaining I’m going to start charging them for my cigarettes.”

The stock market had crashed last year. Dan doesn’t know what started it, nor does he care to find out, but the Great Depression was hurting everyone badly. No one had any money and the money they did had was lost due to the banks all closing. The hot weather was damaging the farming marker and most people were sleeping in slumps off major cities. Dan was living with his Mother and they were both barely getting by.

If Dan was in the films, they wouldn’t have to worry about if they’d have enough money to buy tonight’s dinner. Most of his pay check went to cigarettes – something his Mother wasn’t happy about – but he blames it on the stress of having to work in this café most of the day. Dan was sick of this life.

He just wanted to be the main attraction.

\--

**January 2 nd, 1930**

**West Dallas, Texas**

Fuck Martyn. They wouldn’t be in this position if Martyn hadn’t woken up the family by slamming the car door against the garage.

They had seen a nice car while walking around and Phil wasn’t just going to leave it there. He could ride it around for a while for entertainment before dumping it somewhere in the countryside. He had done it a few times before and had never been caught. But his brother was fucking stupid and couldn’t keep quiet. They had to leave the nice car there and run from the Father of the house who was aiming a shotgun straight at Phils head.

His bloody head. He wasn’t even the one who had alerted them.

They ran until they couldn’t hear the shotguns anymore, darting off into side alleys and muddy fields to try and lose their follower. It wasn’t even like they had even successfully stolen their car, he shouldn’t be running from someone who wouldn’t give up.

Phil hadn’t slept in a tent for three years to be running through muddy fields at one in the morning.

Coming to a stop, Phil punched Martyn’s shoulder. He was out of breath but hell if he was going to let his brother get away with this.

“Hey, what the fuck was that for?”

“All you had to do was open the door enough for us to climb in, not alert the whole bloody country that we were doing grand theft auto.”

Martyn laughed, spitting on the grass before sitting down. He didn’t care about anything. He had a home, living in his wife’s father house while the old man was in prison for who knows what. Everyone was in prison these days, Phil didn’t care to find out everyone’s story. Martyn had taken over their fathers’ gas station as a way of income but with the Great Depression looming over them, people couldn’t even afford to own a car never mind buy petrol. So, at most times, it was left unopened at the side of the road and was used as Phils hideaway when he was caught trying to hold up some convenience store.

“Go home, if that asshole wanted to chase us he’s no doubt called the law as well.” Martyn looked up at him. “They’ll be looking for a duo, and with our track record, we’ll be the first suspects.”

Phil chuckled, kicking a loose mud patch. “Yeah, I best be going. Give my regards to Cornelia.”

“After or before she’s given me a beating for this?”

“During.”

Phil walked off, keeping his head to try and avoid identification from everyone who would grass him up when the police go poking around. He had been arrested twice in his lifetime and he wasn’t going to make that a third if he could prevent it. His Mother was disappointed in him, what Mother wouldn’t be, but in these times,  he had no choice but to rob from some run-down shop just to be able to eat.

Other people’s approvals never really bothered him, and his Mothers approval wasn’t one he sought out to get either, but he’d like to impress his Mother just once. With some dress or bag. Yeah, she’d like that. His Mother was always the materialistic kind.

“Phil!” Phil turned around, head snapping up at the person who just blew his whole cover of staying undetected.

“God Clay, keep your fucking voice down.”

Clay laughed, walking up to Phils side. “Running again?” Phil nodded, looking around to see if anyone else was in the area. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find no one, it was bloody one in the morning, but you had to be careful when the law was waiting for a reason to chuck you straight back into jail. “I’m throwing a little get together, want to come?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Phil smiled at him, nervously moving his feet around on the dried mud beneath him. “I best be going though, sheriff will probably be dropping by my house and I don’t want Mother opening it.”

With a pat on the back, Phil was back to keeping his head down as he navigated the small alleys.

\--

**January 5 th, 1930**

**West Dallas, Texas**

Dan decided that this party was just as boring as the other he had attended that year. Prohibition was still going strong and he had no idea how Clay had managed to obtain a low level of alcohol, but it was quickly drunk before Dan could even finish his first glass. Someone was playing the piano badly in the corner while a few couples danced in the centre.

Dan was contemplating leaving.

He walked into the kitchen, placing his cup onto the counter before bending down and reaching for the hot chocolate he knew Clays lady friend kept stashed away. Chocolate helped with everything.

“God don’t ever stop bending over.”

Dan stood up, rolling his eyes and preparing to turn around and face another one of the bums who would lead a very similar life to the ones who sit in the café every day drinking their lives away. He was flattered really, so many people threw out comments his way, but he wished they were from upper class men who had seen him in the newest movie.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. When he turned, he wasn’t met with someone who had been spending their last wages on booze. He was met with the most handsome man Dan had ever lay eyes on. He was rather pale – which was shocking seen as it hadn’t rained in Texas for quite a while now and the sun wasn’t just burning crops alive – but his black hair matched it perfectly. He had a slight smirk on his lips, leaning against the kitchen door with no care in the world.

“For you, I’ll stay on my hands and knees all the time.”

The man laughed, pushing himself off the door and walked towards Dan, stopping right next to him. He held his hand out, and it took Dan slightly longer then he would admit to get out his trance and realise the man wanted to shake his hand.

“Phil Lester.” He kept his grip on Dans hand, stroking his thumb over the dry knuckles. Dan smiled, glancing up to really survey the mans face. Those blue eyes could have him doing whatever he wanted.

“Dan Howell.” Phil dropped his hand, leaning forward against the counter and turning his head to glance at Dan. He waved his hand, signalling to Dan to continue doing what he was doing. Normally Dan would scoff at them, telling them he was very much independent and didn’t need telling what to do. This time though, Dan didn’t mind taking orders from this man.

“So, Daniel Howell,” Dan rolled his eyes, pouring the hot water that had been previously brewed into the chocolate, reaching for a spoon to mix it. “What’s a pretty boy like you doing at a party like this?”

Dan hummed, mixing the chocolate and water together. “Clays a regular at the café I work at. How did you end up here?”

“Me and Clay held up a gas station once. And then spent two months in prison together.” Dan sighed, placing the cup he had held up to his mouth back to the counter. Phil must have noticed his change of mood and stood up, facing Dan. “You don’t need to worry about me because I’ve been to jail.”

“I know plenty of men that’s been to jail.”

“How many do you know that’s busted out?”

Dan glanced up, looking for any sign of lying showing its self on Phils face. There was none, just the same sly smirk that had been sitting there when he first saw him.

“My sentence was five months. I thought two months was suitable.”

Dan chuckled, leaning back against the counter Phil had previously been leaning over. “You like to decide things yourself?”

Phil smirked, standing directly in front of Dan, trapping him against the counter. “Yeah. And I’ve decided you’re coming home with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> In real life, Bonnie and Clyde actually just met at a chance encounter at a mutual friends house but that's too boring for me so I mixed it up to be more entertaining.


End file.
